"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" Flanders Field and Passchendaele, Belgium

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place;  and in the sky

The lark, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.  Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie 

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch;  be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

"In Flanders Fields" was written by a Canadian physician, Major John McCrae, during World War I.

Inspired to pen this poem after the funeral of his friend and fellow soldier.

Passing a rare sight on our journey, of a traditional windmill in Belgium.  Heading to Flanders Field which is actually an entire area rather than one place?  Flanders Field is the land that spans southern Belgium and north-west France in the County of Flanders.  

This is the site of the Battle of Passchendaele fought during World War I.  From July to November 1917.  The Allies against the Germans.  The campaign ended in November, when the Canadian Corps entered the fight in October, capturing the Passchendaele ridge at a cost of almost 16,000 soldiers.

The losses of this battle are enormous.  There were more than nine Victoria Crosses awarded to Canadian soldiers of that battle for Heroism.

My photos tell the story, that I have no words to articulate what it felt to be here.